The silence in the house had been large enough to be its own being this year. Tristan was lost in her head as much as I was. Even when I was here, the words we spoke to each other were few. I wasn’t a babbler. I hadn’t ever been much of a talker unless I was smooth-talking a female into coming home with me. It was one of the reasons Angie had broken up with me. She said it wasn’t just the missions, or me being gone for months at a time with no correspondence, but the fact that when I was home, I still didn’t speak.
Out of my peripheral, I saw Molly make a lunge, and as I turned to catch her, she slipped by me into the tub with the baby. Hannah laughed, and the giggle settled itself into my veins like a tranquilizer. The dog licked her face, and Hannah shoved the stupid duck at the mutt. With all my heart, I wanted to give this moment, this image, back to my dead friend.
In the process of getting the dog and Hannah dried off, I got drenched myself. I tossed the sauce- and water-covered T-shirt in the hamper and picked up the baby from the changing table. I stopped at the sight of myself in the mirror. My dark hair, even as short as it was, was sticking up at weird angles. My green eyes were almost black from exhaustion, and the baby in my arms looked fragile against my muscled chest covered with tattoos and scars. It was like one of those “which of these things doesn’t belong” pictures. It was easy to see I was the odd man out.
I turned away from the stranger in the mirror, taking the baby downstairs to read her a book before putting her to bed. If I knew Tristan, she’d be home not long after Hannah’s bedtime, if not before. She could hardly keep away from the baby. In taking care of Hannah, she could forget everything but the basics of survival—Maslow’s hierarchy of needs at its simplest.
That was exactly why Tristan needed the night out. She actually needed a vacation from parenting all together just so she could figure out her own emotions. I certainly didn’t begrudge her the time. I wished I was around even more so I could force her out the door regularly.
Unfortunately, knowing she was out on the town with Dani had my body stirring a response that certainly wasn’t directed at Tristan. Mac would kill me for the thoughts I’d had over his sister ever since meeting her the very first time.
Dani was a force of nature all her own. A tornado. A hurricane. A gale-force wind blowing in and out wherever she showed up. The thought of her and Tristan out shaking their bodies together on some dance floor made me want to follow them. Made me want to give the stink eye to every man in the place who was looking at them. And, by God, there would be a lot of staring, because Dani was a knockout, and Tristan was damn cute.
Telling Tristan she was cute had only been the first of my mistakes before she’d gone out.
“Cute? Really? Cute is what you say about the dog,” Tristan had huffed. “This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t even be going out.”
She’d started back up the stairs when I’d caught her by the arm.
“Don’t,” I’d said, stopping her. She’d looked at my hand on her arm with shock, as if the human touch was something she didn’t understand anymore. “You look good, Tristan. I…I just don’t know how to say that to you when Darren would have put me in a headlock if I’d uttered it before.”
Mistake number two—because I’d said his name. Her eyes had welled up with tears as she’d pulled her arm from me. She’d sat on the step and put her head in her hands. “What am I doing?” she’d mumbled.
“Going out. Having a drink. Letting your hair down.”
She did have her hair down, and she was wearing makeup and had clothes on without holes. She’d looked almost like the Tristan from before we’d lost Darren. Except for the dark shadows that still existed below her eyes. I wasn’t sure those would ever go away.
“I…I don’t know how to do any of that anymore,” she’d said.
“He’d want you to,” I’d said quietly.
She hadn’t responded. Referring to him was all but forbidden, and now, I’d done it twice in the same conversation. When she didn’t respond, I pushed.
“Go. Hang with Dani. Let yourself forget for a few hours.”
Which was mistake number three. But instead of shouting that she’d never forget, she’d straightened her back and stood. She’d grabbed her purse from the hook by the door before turning back to me.
“Don’t forget the spaghetti.”
Then the door had shut with a bang behind her.
I hoped she was drinking herself into forgetfulness the way I did, but I knew she wouldn’t. She’d taken the SUV, and she’d never drink and drive. She hadn’t let any of the team get behind the wheel for as long as I’d known her. I’d be surprised if she let herself even have one drink.
I sank into the armchair with Molly curled up next to me and Hannah resting her head on my chest. It was another visual I was sure no one who knew me would expect. Nasty with a kid and a dog, reading from a stack of books I almost knew by heart because I’d read them—or heard Tristan read them—too many times to count.
The baby fell asleep, and I just sat there, watching her
